


Courage and Freedom and Heat

by jillyfae



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” Winston Churchill</p><p>(This is mostly Anders-smut via prompts on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. warmth (Bethany Hawke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a tiny bit of fluff, a prompt from a trope meme: _huddling for warmth_

“What do you think you’re doing?”  Bethany attempted to sound annoyed, but she couldn’t help the smile crossing her face as Anders’ hand slid around her side and pulled her in against him.

“Huddling together for warmth?”  She could see the moonlight reflecting off his eyes as he smiled.

“It’s hot enough to fry an egg on the rocks.”  Her lips twitched, and despite the sweat trickling between her breasts she wriggled in even closer.  

_Maybe there’ll be a breeze, eventually, now that the sun has set?_

“Hmm,” his breath hummed against her hair, and she could feel the shake of his chest as he swallowed a chuckle.  ”Huddling together for cold?”

She felt the spell as he cast, a soft whisper against her skin an instant before shockingly cold fingers slid under the edge of her shirt and tickled ice along her hips.

She mostly managed not to shriek, though there was definitely a gasp before she smacked his shoulder, and then she was laughing because he was laughing, and then he was kissing her and she didn’t need to laugh at all, and she didn’t care about the heat as he pulled her tight against his chest, her tongue in his mouth and her heart aching in her chest.


	2. comfort (Marian Hawke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a prompt from cheesiestart for some Marian/Anders during Anders Porn Week

He’d been working too hard again.

Marian could just see the shape of his ribs beneath his skin before he started pulling on clothes, rushing out the door after dropping an absentminded kiss on her forehead.

“Grab some food on your way!” She called out before the door shut behind him. She was rather sure he wasn’t listening.

_Have to do something about that._

***

“Hawke?” Anders almost stuttered when she swept through the clinic doors, startled enough at her entrance she rather thought he hadn’t even noticed her housekeeper behind her.

Hawke just grinned and grabbed his arm and kept on walking, heading for his room in back.

“What are you - ” He shifted around in her grip, but followed along easily enough. “I have patients, you know.”

“They’ll be fine for a bit, Orana will shout if there’s an emergency.” She paused just long enough to turn around and address the few people resting on cots along the walls. “Your healer needs to take care of himself if he’s going to be able to take care of you.” She lifted the picnic basket draped over her free arm. “Just gonna feed him, be back in a bit.” She turned back around and shoved. “Now move it, serah.”

He moved, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he fell in step beside her.

He lifted an eyebrow in surprise when the door closed beh ind them and she shoved him back until he sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed. The lingering smile faded into something else completely when she straddled him, knees spread far enough she could settle flush against his lap, her skirt hiked up almost all the way to her hips, wrinkled fabric bunching between them.

“I thought you were here to feed me?” His voice had softened, his eyes fixed on her face as his hands slid up and down her sides.

She lifted her hand, sliding a finger in front of her lips just in time to stop his attempt to kiss her. “I thought you might need some incentive. Eat very nicely, and you never know what might happen.” She rolled her hips, just a little, smiling as he pushed up against her, fingers tightening around her hips. “Little impatient, are we?”

Rather than speak he darted his head to the side, nipping her jaw right in front of her ear before she managed to block him.

“Mm,” she grunted, her hips jerking down ag ainst him before she could help herself.

“I’m not the only one.”

“Let’s see who lasts longer, shall we?”

She leaned back to free her arms, shooting him a smile when his hands slid to the small of her back to support her shifting balance, and opened up the basket she’d set next to them on the bed.

Anders obligingly opened his mouth when she lifted out a piece of Orana’s fresh bread. She took a bite first though, eyebrows raised as his eyes followed each shift of her mouth, the swallow down her throat. Only when she was done did she hold it up to his mouth and let him take a bite of his own.

He flicked his tongue out to capture a crumb caught on his lips, and she felt her face flush, thinking about what else she’d like that tongue to do.

_Food first._

She swatted his hands down when he tried to help, making him take each bite from between her fingers. Bite after bite, bread to fruit to cheese to meat and back again, his gaze never left her face, eyes dark and intense. Focusing on her mouth whenever she ate something, her eyes when it was his turn.

Her breasts were positively aching, her nipples rubbing against the cloth as each breath made her chest lift and fall. He tilted his head, just enough to catch her finger in his mouth, his tongue wet and warm as he sucked the residue of grease from meat and cheese off her skin, watching her face out of the corner of her eyes.

She groaned, eyes closed as her hips rocked against him, rubbing against the length of his cock, grown hard between her legs.

“Marian,” he whispered, half caress, half plea.

“Yes Anders?” She opened her eyes, watching as he shifted forward. She didn’t stop him this time, parting her lips as his mouth approached hers, feeling the soft brush of his breath, the slightest hint of brown glinting between his eyelashes, visible for just an instant before she closed her eyes again and leaned into his kiss, his lips firm as their mouths opened wide, tongues sliding together.

His hands were tight along the top of her thighs, pushing her down as he rolled his hips up against her, rubbing against her, making her stomach tighten and pleasure tremble through her thighs.  _More, give me more._

Marian pushed her knees up against his legs, lifting herself up off his lap, feeling his chin tilt and his neck stretch as he followed her movement, a quick flick of his tongue against her lips as their kiss adjusted to the different angle.

She could feel the hard beat of her heart in her chest as she shifted some more, enough to get her hands beneath her skirt. She’d planned ahead, worn smalls that tied along her hips, only needing a quick yank on each side to undo so she could p ull them off.

“Marian,” Anders broke their kiss to say her name again, dark and low this time, a hint of amusement trembling along the desire.

She didn’t have it in her to answer him, only a moan, her hands busy pulling layers of clothing out of the way until she could work on the laces of his breeches, could push everything out of the way and wrap her fingers around him, shuddering along with his groan at her touch.

Marian shifted her weight forward, lining herself up and slowly spreading her legs again, tightening at that one instant of discomfort before she got the angle right, and began lowering herself down upon him.

Slowly, at first, eyes blinking and spine straightening as she felt him rise inside her, sliding just a little bit further in with each breath. Her legs felt hot and tight, holding herself to such a deliberate pace, but it was such a wonderful ache, the tension building in her stomach and back and arms and toes.

Fingers d ug into her ass as Anders gripped her tight, his hips lifting up, almost slamming against her, filling her hard and fast and deep, a glorious throbbing shock. Her head fell back and she pushed him back down onto the cot, feeling him rub inside, again and again as she rolled her hips.

She lifted herself up almost all the way off his cock, falling back down hard and fast, feeling her body throb again with the impact, and again when their hips tilted together, then apart.

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t talk, breath rasping in her throat as she gasped in time with the curving of her body, her skin shivering as Anders pulled her close, his voice hot and ragged against her neck, whispering her name over and over.

She yanked on his hair, pulling his head back so she could kiss him, hard and sloppy, tongue and teeth and groaning into his mouth as their hips rolled again, and again, and she wanted to shout, wanted to scream, wanted to beg,  _almost, fuck, yes ._

“Anders.” Her voice was almost a sob when she came, the shiver tightening to a shuddering ache, one last throb through muscles and skin, eyes tight and fingers tighter as she clung to him.

He jerked beneath her, rough and erratic, filling her as her body started to loosen, sighing when he was done and they settled heavily against the cot, falling back until he was braced against the wall behind him.

His hands stroked up her back, the slight wrinkling of fabric catching on skin, first hers, then his, before smoothing out beneath his fingers. He reached her neck, fingers gentle as they slid between strands of hair, tugging just enough to make her sigh at the soft pull.

She felt his breath against her ear, a soft brush of lips against her cheek, and then he was kissing her again, slow and sweet.

_I love you._


	3. inconceivable (everyone)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Anders/Everyone PWP. There is no rationale for this. (Originally prompted by[thewoofles](http://thewoofles.tumblr.com) and [yarnandteaisallineed](http://yarnandteaisallineed.tumblr.com/) during Anders porn week.)_

He could feel the thrum of lyrium against his skin, even though the hands that were full of it were doing nothing more than holding him down, tight around wrists pulled high above his head.

Carver was the one who was kissing him. He never would have thought he'd would be so very good with his lips, firm and brash and thorough, pressure and heat and the swipe of his tongue, the occasional sharp edge of teeth.

Varric had been the one to undress him, to soothe him when his eyes had opened too far with worry, to lay him down in the middle of the room.

Bethany had straddled him first. The warm weight of her breasts against his chest, the sweet smell of her hair as it fell around them as she kissed him.

The incredible feel of her, hot and tight, when she took him inside her.

Sebastian had been next, licking her slick off his cock, taking his time, 'til Anders couldn't tell how much time was passing, how much was gone, and he was hard again, hips pushing up against that gorgeous mouth.

The blighter had pulled away barely a moment too soon, a rough chuckle breathing across hot flesh, and that was when Fenris had stepped in, holding him down when he would have followed Sebastian's head as he pulled away.

Sebastian had gone over to Bethany again, _lucky woman_ , one long sloppy kiss before his head disappeared between her legs, his cock down her throat.

"You'll look at me, now, not my sister."

Carver had distracted him quite thoroughly, a greased finger trailing between the cleft of his arse, then sliding inside, curving and twisting until he found just the right spot, stroking and pushing and teasing.

Isabela was there too, hands everywhere, her mouth trailing across his chest, his neck, his nipples, his shoulders, the tug of teeth on his earlobe, the wet trail of her tongue along his jaw.

It wasn't long beforre Anders came with a ragged shout. They'd licked Anders' stomach and chest clean as they switched places, Carver on his way up to Anders' mouth, Isabela content trailing her way down his thighs as his cock softened and eased.

But kissing wasn't apparently what Carver had in mind, and soon, all to soon, he pulled his mouth away. Anders heard himself whine, trying to follow Carver now, as he'd tried to follow Sebastian, wanting more and more and more again...

He got it. Carver's cock pressed to his lips, sliding past teeth, thick and heavy on his tongue. Carver shifted his weight until the were both comfortable, until he could flex his hips and slide his hard length down Anders' throat and back up and out again.

Anders pushed up with his tongue when he could, sucked and swallowed when he couldn't, groaned against hot skin until it was too much for both of them, his body aching as he swallowed Carver's seed, listened to him moan.

He felt Isabela laugh as Carver collapsed to his side, and then he jerked as Isabela's tongue flicked against his balls.

He managed half a thought, listening to Merrill and Aveline moaning across the room, before her tongue returned, a little harder this time, and he shuddered, _too soon._ At first it hurt, a burn on nerves too sensitive to bear the stimulation, but then it eased, and it was good, the feel of her tongue, wet and nimble, licking and sucking at his balls.

"Move it Rivaini, it's my turn." He heard the slap of a hand on flesh, felt Isabela jerk from what he assumed was a sharp smack on her arse. "Turn him over elf."

There was a thick dwarven finger deep in his ass, grease everywhere, then an even thicker dwarven cock pushing into him, and he shuddered and groaned into the blanket beneath him, fingers clutching tightly around Fenris' hands.

It almost hurt, too big, so big, _fucking dwarves, always so thick and strong_ , and then he felt the flat of the hand smacking _his_ arse this time, a chuckle behind him as he clenched then relaxed.

"Knew you could take it Blondie. You like it rough?"

He flexed his jaw, couldn't seem to talk, nodded into the blanket under his face.

"Glad to hear it."

Varric took his time, a slow torturous slide out and in. The next one was a little faster, a little harder. And so he went, broad hands hard as he gripped Anders' hips, until he was fucking him full force into the floor, the slap of skin as he slammed against Anders' arse echoed by the breathless groan forced out of Anders' throat at the end of each thrust, until Anders was writhing helplessly beneath him, unable to brace himself, unable to react, unable to do anything but take it, over and over.

He shuddered and whimpered as he felt Varric's thrusts turn ragged and uneven, _Maker I'm hard again_ , tension singing and throbbing through his whole body as his best friend came inside him.

"Please," he begged, not sure who or what he was asking for, but they gave it to him anyways, Merrill sliding beneath him, spreading her legs, offering the sweet slim line of her body, the tight hot pleasure of her cunt.

At some point Fenris had let go of his hands, so he used them on her as he took her, pulling her hair to tilt her head so he could kiss and bite her neck, tongue caressing her tattoos after his teeth dug into them, her body shaking and bucking against him as his hips thrust hard, listening to her cry out as she came.

And came again, her voice edged with the pleasure and pain of it.

He was still hard, so hard, impossibly hard, aching and desperate, he stumbled to his feet even as he heard Merrill trying to catch her breath on the floor.

He bent Aveline over a chest, fucking her from behind, the strength of her thighs holding her solidly in place, no matter how hard he took her.

He didn't understand, he couldn't think, but he needed, he wanted, more than breath, more than life, down on the floor again, hands and knees rubbed raw on the rug, his tongue deep inside Isabela.

She tasted like Carver, he could almost recall seeing them writhing together in front of the fireplace, but then he forgot, couldn't even remember anything as Fenris slid his cock between Anders' thighs, rubbing up hard against Anders' balls and cock, his hand reaching round to stroke Anders' crown, to rub their cocks together until finally, finally, Isabela screamed, and Anders came, searing relief as hot seed spilling over Fenris' fingers and out on the floor, mingling with the elf's release as he felt Fenris shudder behind him, one last convulsion against his spine before he passed out, fading into comfortable darkness.


	4. Not Ridiculous (Jowan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Found another prompt/gift that I thought I better rescue.  This one was from Anders porn week, for the ever-brilliant[msbarrows](http://msbarrows.tumblr.com), who has a fondness for rare!pairs.  In this case, she asked for Anders/Jowan._

The poor man was twitchy as a rabbit.  It was no wonder he hadn't been Harrowed yet.   _Probably turn into a mouse and get eaten by a bear._

And yet, every once in a while, he'd forget to be nervous.  The crease between his eyebrows would ease, he'd push his dark hair messily off of his forehead, and his voice would deepen and strengthen, passion underlying his words.  Smart words, even.

_They make us all hide our best, don't they?_

Anders swallowed that thought, and sat down next to the younger man.  Smiled at him, even.  He could afford to show some kindness; after all, he wasn't going to be around much longer for it to be used against either of them.

_One last try, and I will not let them bring me back, no matter what I have to do._

He hadn't expected that Jowan knew how to smile, a brief shining flash of joy that lit up his eyes.

He hadn't words at all for his surprise when Jowan tilted his head and they snuck behind the shelves, staying up all night whispering about impossible loves and desires and what could have been, if not for magic.  If not for templars and rules and walls and pain.  There was a desperate edge to his voice to match the one in Anders' heart, brought on by a desire for something as strong as Anders' need for light and freedom.  

Or  _someone_ , perhaps.

Most mages knew better than to fall in love, but sometimes it happened anyways.

Anders was the one who tilted his head the next night, who gently ran a hand up Jowan's arm once they were alone, asking a silent question.  If not love, at least a friend? Some pleasure in the dark?

Jowan leaned in to kiss him first, the angle wrong, lips awkward.  Anders caught his lip on Jowan's tooth, pushed back with a soft laugh.  Until he saw Jowan's face, that unexpected light in his eyes gone, eyebrows creased again as he started to turn away.

_That's not what I meant at all._

He carefully brushed his fingers along the side of Jowan's neck, holding his breath when he saw the other man shiver.  Finally Jowan turned, and Anders sighed in relief, a crooked smile softening his face.  And then he closed his eyes and let out a completely different sort of sigh, at the feel of Jowan's hands pushing against his chest, Jowan's lips hot on his neck.

He was used to keeping himself quiet, keeping his mouth tightly shut, the occasional press of teeth against his lips as a reminder.  Jowan was having trouble though, audible gasps and groans as Anders lifted his robes out of the way, ran his hands along stomach and thighs.

For all he knew it was reckless and foolhardy, Anders couldn't help but love the sounds, the gasp as he wrapped his fingers around Jowan's cock, the groan as he started to stroke.

The desperate strangled mewling breaths when he dropped to his knees and took Jowan in his mouth.

The way he drawled out Anders' name later, when his hips bucked and Anders swallowed his seed.

Not that Anders did much better, almost growling when Jowan pulled him up by his hair to kiss him, mouth wide and gasping, almost losing Jowan's tongue when Jowan shoved his thigh up between Anders' legs, grinding against balls and cock, the friction of sliding fabric a delectable form of torture.

He was panting with anticipation when Jowan finally lowered himself to the floor.

Anders had to clap a hand over his mouth, biting into the heel of his palm to stifle a shout when Jowan licked him through his smalls, wet heat and clinging fabric almost overwhelming, almost causing him to lose it early, still trapped in his clothes.

The touch of skin made his hips jerk when smooth fingers pulled him free, one hand on his balls, one wrapped around the base of his cock, lips warm and soft around his crown.  His eyes rolled back into his head, his hands still muffling the noises accompanying each breath at the feel of lips and tongue and mouth and fingers.

He felt his stomach tighten, managed a soft groan to warn Jowan before he came, shuddering at the feel of the other man's throat swallowing around him.

He pulled Jowan up to his feet, both of them supported more by the wall than their own legs, one last slow kiss until their knees steadied, one last quiet moment before straightening their robes and sneaking back out to their quarters.

They didn't manage another rendezvous before Anders had his chance, escaping with a shipment of goods for the Court in Denerim.

Not that he'd be going all the way to Denerim, of course, but it would get him into the Bannorn proper, if he was careful.

He thought he'd try going North this time.


	5. challenge (Garrett Hawke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Anders porn week prompts, which combined rather nicely, two into one story
> 
> M!Hawke/Anders, licking, from [fragilespark](http://fragilespark.tumblr.com), and [moodymarshmallow](http://moodymarshmallow.tumblr.com)'s: Anders topping M!Hawke, I think, but not in a super aggressive dom-y sort of way :3

Anders had started at his knee, the soft scrape of his stubble catching on Garrett's thigh in between kisses, and licks, and gentle nips of teeth as he worked his way up Garrett's leg.

Garrett moaned, spreading his knees as far apart as he could manage, when Anders reached the crease at the top of his leg, one long luxurious lick so close to his cock but not quite there.

"Maker's breath."  Garrett's fingers dug into the mattress beneath him.  

"Breath, you say?"  Anders laughed softly, each hot puff of air torture against Garrett's balls.  And then he tilted his head, moving along the side of Garrett's cock, tracing the height of it with his mouth, too far away to touch, but close enough to tease, warm air moving against Garrett's skin.

_I will not beg.  I will not beg._

Garrett clenched his teeth, his hips tight and his ass clenching as he held himself still.  Or mostly still.  He could see one line of muscles twitching down his thigh, could feel the throb in his cock.

Anders leaned in close, _finally_ , gave one swift, light lick, and pulled back again.  His head dropped all the way to the mattress, his tongue flicking up against Garrett's balls, then away again.  He repeated the same teasing maneuver over and over, balls, then cock, never for very long, never quite enough.

_Sod it all, nothing wrong with a little begging._

"Please, Anders, please."  

"Please what?"  Garrett's heart clenched as tight as his muscles at that, the smirk on Anders' mouth, the way his tangled hair flopped down along the side of his face as he tilted his head, glancing up at Garrett with those perfect warm brown eyes.

"Please," Garrett repeated, unable to manage anything more coherent past the lump in his throat, the ache in his chest, the throbbing need of his very, very hard cock.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He couldn't manage words at all when hot lips wrapped around his crown, his head fell back and his eyes closed and he felt the groan all the way up from his gut before it rattled through his throat and out into the open air.  His hips lifted up and Anders' glorious mouth slid down, tongue and lips doing impossibly wonderful things, back up again, then down, even further this time.  

He could feel Anders shift, and suck, and _lick,_ and his balls were too hot, too tight, everything full, everything ready, and he bucked up again, harder and harder until he felt himself go, and then such relief, such release, and Anders swallowing around him.

"I think I'm blind," he muttered later, his limbs heavy and his head thick and his heart finally beating like normal again.

"That's because your arm's over your head, you ninny."  Anders soft laugh was almost as good as an orgasm.

_Ok, not really, but it's still very nice._

"But perhaps I'll take that as a challenge."  Anders' voice dropped, low and husky, and it was impossible to suppress a shiver in reaction.  "Roll over love, I'm not done with you yet."

* * *

Anders loved the feel of Garrett beneath him, all those muscles flexing down his back as his body shifted.  The way his fingers clenched in his sheets, the way he rolled his head across his pillow, soft moans not quite muffled.  

The way he tilted his hips up and back, soft grunts with every thrust, begging for more with his body if not his words.

Anders ran his hand down Garrett's spine, groaning with satisfaction as Garrett rose up against his touch, muscles shivering beneath his fingers, clenching around his cock.

_All that strength of body and will, all mine, all for me._

He leaned forward, listening as Garrett's breath caught at the change in position, the shift of pressure and pleasure inside him.  He rolled his hips, smiling as Garrett stopped breathing at all, for just a moment, before a shuddering sigh moved through his whole body.

He kissed Garrett's back, his shoulder, inhaling the smell of skin and sweat, the lingering traces of leather and steel from armor hastily removed, fading quickly under the scent of the oil warming from the friction of their bodies.

He shifted his hips back and forth, slow shallow thrusts as he tasted Garrett's skin, waiting as the breaths beneath him sped up, ragged and uneven, waiting as the hips beneath him pushed back.

Waited for him to ask.

"Please, Anders, please," Garrett finally spoke, voice as rough as his beard, as strong as his shoulders, defiant even as he begged for more.

Anders took his time answering, shifting his hands until he had a solid grip on Garrett's hips, easing his chest up and back until he was settled back on his knees.  He slowly pulled his cock almost all the way out, sliding forward again even more slowly, fingers tightening as Garrett tried to push back hard, tried to make him speed up, a rough "damnitanders" muttered under his breath.

He did it again, just a little faster, and little harder, and again, and again, and again, and again, until he was slamming against Garrett's body, muttered words lost to groans and gasps, all thought lost to the pleasure of taking, and giving, and taking again, until he slid one hand down Garrett's hips, a hint of static and shock dancing along his fingers as he  _stroked_. 

Garrett tensed, a full-throated growl vibrating through his chest as he came, spilling onto the bed.  His body went tight enough to pull Anders over the edge with him, a shock of pleasure and release as the pressure finally broke, his hips jerking as he gave on last thrust, one last push, filling the man beneath him.

Of course there was the inevitable awkwardness of disengaging and messy sheets and wet spots and bending one's leg in entirely the wrong direction and hitting  _someone_  on the head with a pillow for laughing inconsiderately at a person's wince...

But at the end of it all Garrett was under him again, though this time they were both lying down, a broad chest for a pillow, (as the actual pillow bounced off onto the floor somewhere), a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders, and a steady heartbeat under his ear.

Anders loved that too.


	6. Memory (Isabela)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ltleflrt](http://ltleflrt.tumblr.com) requested some young Anders and Isabela. Well, she requested porn, to be honest, but I managed some bittersweet remembrance instead.

Anders remembered her, later.

Remembered her laugh.

Remembered her breasts.

Remembered how very far backwards she could bend, her body strong and her back curving smoothly.

He liked flexibility.

He liked anything that wasn't in Kinloch Hold, to be honest, but flexibility was a nice bonus.

She hadn't cared he was a mage either.  Actually hadn't cared.

Usually they were afraid, or they enjoyed the exotic adventure of it all.

She just grinned and asked him to do it again.

So he did, fingers sparking along her skin, tongue firm between her legs.

She managed to get his cock all the way down her throat later.

He figured they'd both been pretty satisfied with that night.

Would've been happier, even, if he'd managed to ask her about her ship, but one of Sanga's runners had knocked first, warning him of Templars in the lobby, and he'd slithered off into the night.

He remembered her for years: the way she'd smelled, the way she'd felt, the one night when no one cared about his magic, not even him.

He'd never asked her name.  Never lit a candle, not even a fire in the hearth for such a nice warm evening.  Probably why he didn't recognize her when he met her again.  They'd both changed with the years, after all.

But he should have recognized that laugh.


	7. Mystery (Varric)

Sometimes, when they were making camp somewhere up the Coast, following Hawke on his latest mad adventure, Anders would step a bit away from the fire, looking out to sea, still and quiet, the proud line of his nose profiled against the clouds or the setting sun or the flicker or starlight and moonlight, depending on which watch he'd gotten stuck serving.

 _Which watch.  That's a dreadful phrase._ Varric snorted softly to himself, but he couldn't seem to look away from the view.  And not the view out to sea, for all Isabela could extol the virtues of waves and wind for hours.  There was something about that apostate, sad and strong and wistful, all at once.  He sometimes wondered what Anders thought behind those brown eyes of his...  He was usually glad he didn't know what he was thinking, when they blazed blue.

But either way, it was hard to resist a mystery.

Or that profile.


	8. whatever we deserve (Cullen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an anonymous prompt from the DA Kiss Battle

"You think about her when you're watching, don't you. Things Templars pretend they don't think anymore."  
  
Cullen wished desperately he'd worn his helm, so his uneven blush wouldn't be so very visible, and his attempt to ignore the teasing might have a hope of success.  
  
_Blasted Anders. Always causing trouble._  
  
"You tell yourself you have feelings for her, don't you? As if she could ever care for one of her jailors."  
  
Not that he could contain the grunt of mingled embarrassment and annoyance at that one, even if he'd had a helm to hide behind.  
  
Anders leaned in closer, his voice whisper sweet despite the bitter words. "You should always consider, when you look at her, when you imagine kissing her, that even if she submits, you'll never know if it's because she wants to, or she's afraid not to."  
  
"That's not ... she wouldn't, I wouldn't ..." Cullen couldn't seem to make his words function, or his thoughts. He wished he was doing rounds rather than guard duty, so he could walk away, but he couldn't, had to stand, had to fumble.   
  
Had to listen.  
  
"You say that now." Anders huffed out one short breath. "I hope you remember it, the next time you see her alone."   
  
Anders was too close,  _always too close_ , but then suddenly he was even closer, lips pressed to Cullen's mouth, hard and firm and the sharp edge of teeth until it  _hurt_ , and Cullen was too startled to do more than push him away and swallow the bitter metal sting of blood past his tongue.  
  
"That's the sort of affection we earn, in here."   
  
And he was gone, and Cullen was swallowing again, and still he couldn't leave, not to think, not to pray, his face as close to Templar-still as he could make it.  
  
He hoped she wouldn't walk by this way tonight.


	9. Dream (Nathaniel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompted by [nightquill](http://carrionqueen.tumblr.com)

They’d let him leave.  

_made us leave, drove us away, wouldn’t help, wouldn’t protect us, wouldn’t protect our own_

At first it had felt like he and Justice were one, echoing each other, stretching to fit both of them in one uncertain body, but now, now he wasn’t sure, now he didn’t know what was him and what was Him and what was something broken they’d built between them, and he tried not to think about it, but  _Nathaniel._

Seeing Nathaniel brought it all back, the brief moments of freedom, camaraderie, something perilously close to peace, all those years ago.

_There can be no peace. Not anymore._

That was both of them. In agreement for once, a thrum in his bones as the Fade and magic and desire and need all lined up, a single breath of singular purpose.

But he lost it again, breath aching and shoulders tight because  _Nathaniel._

Justice had considered Nathaniel his best friend.  Probably would’ve asked him for ‘help’ rather than Anders, if there had been time.  If any one of them had ever had a choice in anything.

Anders though.

Anders had always wondered about the strength in archer’s shoulders and thighs, had enjoyed the rasp of the man’s voice in the dark, and he was suddenly plagued with dreams he’d thought he’d forgotten, dreams of skin and oil and sweat and what that voice would sound like when it had been used too hard to remember words.

He felt the blue edges of what was probably Justice and not him retreat away from heat and hard edges and lost hopes, and lay down on his cot with a sigh, a moan, his hand already reaching between his legs to ease the ache of his groin.

He knew there was no such simple cure for the ache of his thoughts, but he’d take what he could get, losing himself in dreams of a man who had almost been more than a friend.


End file.
